Chapter Text
“Tsk tsk tsk.” Percival rattles the cup of kibble, the rolling churn loud in the morning chill.
Ten minutes in, he has to admit defeat. She’s been late before.
With a sigh he places the bowl down in its usual spot and fishes around for his keys. With his other hand he quickly sends a text to Vex before his fingers freeze.
Sorry, no photos for you. Curio was a no-show.
The lock snaps - so very satisfying - and warm air buffets him as he makes his way into his workshop. Not strictly his - technically he rents his room, use of the main forge and such from Victor. But he’s one of two with a key and that’s enough to be his, thank you very much.
Out of habit, he flicks on the lights before taking off his boots.
Percy only gets one stomp to free them of snow before there’s a clatter. A racket, even, as a blur of fur skids out from under his main worktable, sending a jacket left there flying. An array of screwdrivers and his box of drill bits scream as they hit the ground - he barely recognizes the dark tail and paws before it’s gone.
“Curio?” Percy whispers into the sudden quiet. It must have been her - he’s never seen a stray with her colors before, let alone here, and she’s such a flighty thing, despite his best efforts at Keyleth’s behest. It was only a few days ago he got close enough to hear her purr as she ate.
He swears he hadn’t left that window open, given they had been calling for a spring cold snap. The screen lies half-torn on the floor, on closer inspection. With a scowl Percy pads over and slides the glass closed, picks up the mesh. Not sure it can be salvaged. Great.
It’s very quiet, but the buzzing fluorescent lights overhead, so he can indulge in a heartfelt “Fuck” and listen to it echo.
It does.
It also comes back a little shrill. And chorused.
Percy’s frown deepens. Stalking the noise is easy enough, as is lifting that fallen jacket.
Oh dear.
Help, he texts Vex, and attaches a photo.
--
“Are you keeping them warm?” are the first words out of Vex’s mouth when he lets her in.
Awkwardly, with one arm, he closes the door. She would usually allow time for a smile - Vex today is on a warpath, striding right down the hall. It’s a rare day to see her without her massive brown mutt at her side, but the circumstances certainly exclude Trinket from the proceedings.
Percy last saw her Friday (Friday) and his heart works until the stress of the moment kicks it back into its proper beat. No time for that.
“Of course,” he says, doing his best to follow her promptly. A touch difficult, given - “I did not have anything on hand, and the forge takes a while to warm, so -”
“Percy, kittens rely on their mother’s body heat to survive. If you’re right and they’re that new-”
“I know - they’re safe.”
Vex spins away once in Victor’s workshop. She procures a bean bag from her purse that’s quickly stuffed in the abused lunch microwave. She has to smack it to get it whirring to life. “Darling, why don’t you give me a hand? Where are the babies?”
“No, and here.”
“No? ”
Vex is looking at him very curiously. So Percy takes it as a command: sits, peels off his sweater, ignores Vex’s quirked brow loaded with innuendo, and untucks the overlarge undershirt.
“I figured,” he says, a touch breathless because oh that tickles, “body heat was better than nothing.”
Her eyes are wide and soft and staring down at a very peculiar angle at the writhing patches clutched tight to Percy’s skin. They’re quieter, now, and he’s not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.
“Oh - they’re so small, ” Vex says, downy soft. Percy’s stomach flutters. He blames it on the prick of tiny claws. “Poor things.”
Vex inhales and is immediately back in action, slipping under the tables to find a suitable outlet for something else she tossed on a chair. “Just stay there, darling? I’ll get something a little more convenient set up for them.”
It isn’t long at all before Vex has commandeered the slipper basked, tucked in the electric heating pad and the microwaved one and tucked the whole nest with towels - clean ones, from her place. With a waddle, Percy joins her, kneels, and gingerly holds his shirt open as Vex scoops up each kitten in turn.
“One.” She counts as she goes, setting the squirming kitten down gently.
“Two.” She’s smiling, now, and with the adrenaline beginning to fade Percy feels he can too.
“Three - oh, sweetie, you’re still damp.” Her face becomes something heartbreaking at the realization.
“Four - and five.” He hands her the last one, hand trembling almost as much as it is.
Five kittens. All squirming, to some degree or another - none still, at least. Two at least are whimpering, doing their best to knead at the nearest soft thing. Another is pushed over by its siblings and wails. Percy slowly tips it back upright.
“They’re disgusting, ” Vex whispers with affection. “I was going to - I expected these to be a week or two old, because no one really gets what newborn animals are like. But - these really are hours old. Mom did not even finish cleaning them.”
He huffs. Could be amused, could be humorless. He’s just tired and it’s not even ten am. Vex echoes him, and it’s murmuring quiet as the kittens get settled.
“Alright,” Percy sighs. Five kittens. He hadn’t exactly taken time to count them, in the rush to scoop them up once he had Vex on the phone relaying instructions.
(Five is a bad number. For Percival, specifically.)
“Alright,” he repeats. “What’s next?”
Vex steels herself. “We have to find their mother.”